


Remus Lupin Birthday Mini-Fest 2021 Drabbles

by kittysorceress



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Drabbles, F/M, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Missed Moments, pregnancy horror, pregnancy loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 20:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30077751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittysorceress/pseuds/kittysorceress
Summary: A short collection of drabbles written for the HP Fanfic Writers' Guild's Remus Lupin mini-fest.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 7





	1. Memories

> Prompt: Lupin continued to stare at the map. Harry had the impression that Lupin was doing some very quick thinking.

It was the Map.  _ Their  _ Map. 

Remus’ mind went totally blank. A rush of white noise roared in his ears. He had forgotten how to breathe, how to pump the blood in his veins, how to even speak.

And then, like a wave crashing onto the shore, the memories washed into the blankness of his mind.

_ Late nights in their dormitory, comparing notes on the secret passageways they had found. Hours spent pacing the perimeters of the castle and measuring every last corner. Mastering the trickier bits of magic they needed to bring the creation to life. _

_ The unmistaken glee they had felt when their task was complete. The joy of their celebration that evening and, through the haze of smuggled firewhiskey and adrenaline, the charming smile that Si-- _

Until, at last, he found his words.


	2. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains graphic, although imaginary, descriptions of pregnancy loss and injury during pregnancy and breastfeeding.

> Prompt: Remus finds out that his Boggart isn’t the moon anymore.

Watching Nymphadora leave for work each morning was becoming harder and harder for Remus. He had lived through a war before, he knew what it was to watch a loved one depart each day and not know if they would return.

_‘You’ll look after that boggart in the hall cupboard before you heard out to see Arthur?’  
_ _‘Of course, my love. And you take care today. Be safe.’  
_ _‘Always am!’_

Academically, he knew what he saw before him on the hallway rug that afternoon was not real. He knew that she would not be home for hours. It couldn’t really be her.

But the sight of her dressed as she had been that morning, sitting in a pool of blood on the rug and clutching at her abdomen… it awakened something deep and scared and primal within him. 

_‘So few werewolves ever father children. How can we be sure this is even viable?’  
_ _‘Trust what the Healers said, Remus. You’re an intelligent man. A lack of data doesn’t mean there is any more risk -’_  
_‘No, just that it hasn’t been observed yet.’  
_ _‘_ _Please don’t think that way. I’m sure everything will be fine. And if it’s not, that’ll be for us to worry about then. For now, let’s just be happy? Yes?’_

The thing he feared now more than anything was not the moon and the transformation it would bring each month, but what he had brought upon his wife. What his decision to marry her would now force her to endure.

‘Riddikulus!’

The creature morphed. Heavily pregnant now, she screamed in pain, her ribs cracking audibly as the child inside her struggled.

‘Riddikulus!’

It morphed again. A furred baby clawed at her breasts, drawing blood as it latched with its fanged mouth.

‘Riddikulus!’

With a final crack, the creature burst into smoke. Remus sank to his knees on the threadbare rug, running his hands against the dark wool where the simulacra of his wife and child had been a moment before, as though this futile motion would bring them back. 

Grief poured over him, raw and acid in this throat. Familiar. Terrifying. 

He almost missed being scared of the moon.


	3. Joy

> Prompt: Showing up late to his own first lesson

It doesn’t feel real.

Waking up to the wafting scent of a fresh breakfast magicked up from the kitchens and waiting for him on the little table in his quarters.

Watching the morning sun sparkle on the surface of the Great Lake from the window as he dresses.

Glancing at the alarm clock on the bedside table only to realise he has less than three minutes to get to his classroom.

Just like old times.


	4. Together

> Prompt: Repairing the aggressive grandfather clock 

A small group of the inhabitants of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place were standing on the second-floor landing, gathered nervously around the old grandfather clock.

‘And it does what, exactly?’ Remus asked, looking skeptically at the decrepit and dustridden thing.

‘Shoots heavy bolts,’ replied Hermione. ‘Almost like railway spikes, although not as pointy.’

‘On the half-hour,’ added Harry. ‘But only when it feels like it. Sometimes, it does nothing at all.’ 

‘It’s a bloody nightmare,’ continued Ron. ‘We have to check a watch before we come up the stairs! Fred forgot two nights ago and you wouldn’t believe the size of the bruise on his ar-’

‘Okay, thank you Ron. I get the picture.’ Remus cut the boy off. Beside him, Sirius suppressed a snigger into his mug of tea. ‘So we have a clock shooting bolts, on the half hour, when it feels like it? Yes?’

The young trio nodded and Remus frowned. It wasn't nearly enough information to make an informed guess about what sort of spell or curse or creature was affecting the antique.

‘Never did it when I was a kid, if that helps,’ Sirius mused, taking another sip of his tea. ‘And it only started after you headed off on that mission the week after last, just before the Full. Maybe around the time I shooed the ghoul out of the downstairs loo…’

Remus looked at the clock again, the minute hand ticking perilously closer towards the half hour. He sighed and rolled up his sleeves, wand at the ready.

‘Alright, ghoul is as good a place to start as any. Is everyone ready? Good, then let’s begin.’


End file.
